


OT: Curiosity

by DarkwingSnark, Moonbeamcat



Series: BTAS Ask-Blog Universe [14]
Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, askverse, messages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-29 06:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkwingSnark/pseuds/DarkwingSnark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonbeamcat/pseuds/Moonbeamcat
Summary: Jonathan Crane receives messages about his looks. His new beau isn't exactly thrilled to see them.Short private conversation between the Mad Hatter and Scarecrow.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes, more RP shenanigans that happened behind the scenes of the blog. Mostly posting for archive purposes.  
Mad Hatter: https://askthemadhatter.tumblr.com/  
Scarecrow: https://askthescarecrow.tumblr.com/

* * *

[ While it's pleasant to see you receive compliments, love, I must admit... A part of me wishes they would cease. I want to be the one to tell you, alone, how wonderful I think your height is. Or how delightful your impish smiles. Or the way your shoulders create a striking silhouette.]

[ This should be MINE to say and to say alone...]

[ Oh? Then I suppose it's fortunate I delete 98% of the compliments I receive on the daily, in that case. ]

[ ....... ]

[ That often, Jonathan? ]

[ My... How. Lovely. ]

[ Then I suppose you aren't starved for affections then? I mean, I was wishing to steal away some of your time to lavish you with some of my own-- if you weren't too busy, that is. ]

[ HOWEVER ]

[ If you've had your fill... ] 

[ Well. ]

[ I wouldn't wish to bother you. ]

[ I've never been starved for affection, Jervis. But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy it from time to time. What these people send me isn't affection, so much as hormone-fueled love letters to the concept of danger. ]

[ If you'd like to spend the rest of the evening in each other's company, I certainly wouldn't complain, but I'm just as certainly not about to beg for it. ]

[ ... Yes. Of course. ]

[I. ]

[ Do forgive me. I know I shouldn't be showing you my ire in this regard. You certainly can't control what messages you receive-- just as I can't control what I receive by the post. ]

[ Yet... It does upset me. Perhaps a part of me momentarily saw it as another trying to steal away my happiness, right when I finally had it. You could always have more than nothing, after all. ]

[ May I please steal you away? I promise you won't see an inkling of jealousy. Not heads nor tails of it. ]

[ More than nothing? Hm. I see there's a bit of confusion as to where we stand. ]

[ Alright, I'll be out shortly.]

[ I'll put the kettle on. Perhaps you can enlightening me on where the confusion stands over tea. ]


	2. A Matter of Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come, to talk of many things. Jervis and Jonathan talk about matters of importance over tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually started right after the last conversation. However... getting ready for vacation caused a minor delay. But yes, have this.

Crane pushed himself away from his computer, stretched, and stood. He moved to exit his study to join Jervis for tea, and froze, gaze trailing over to the grinning mask that sat atop his book case. Crane grinned back at it, stepping over to regard it thoughtfully.

“So ** you’re** his idea of intimacy, hm?” A low chuckle, he reached out to take it, and paused, hands hovering before moving to the side to grab a sturdy wooden box setting beside the mask, instead.

“Perhaps another time, I’m not sure he’s quite ready for  _ that _ level of sordid intimacy.” He told the mask, and continued out to find his partner in crime.

It wasn’t difficult, as he found the man right where he knew he would; in what passed as their kitchen, preparing their tea. Jonathan sat at the table, setting the wooden box in front of him, settling on watching Jervis as he worked.

Jervis had caught Jonathan leaving his study from the corner of his peripherals-- boiled water was poured into his preferred china, as the tea was allowed time to seap. Placing two cups onto his tray, he gathered the last of the tea things-- placing a few biscuits, ah, no,  _ cookies _ onto a plate, as he made his way over towards their dining room table.

“I didn’t actually call you away from anything, did I?” The Englishman asked demurely, feeling cautious as he laid out the things-- automatically preparing the other man a cup. While Jonathan didn’t  **seem** upset, Jervis was more than aware of how he had stepped out of line with his messages. “It’s an hour earlier than our usual tea time, just…”

Oh, how did one cleverly convey the feeling of ‘ _ I had a sudden lapse of insecurity _ ’ without it sounding so…  _ hmm _ , petty? One  **doesn’t** , which was why Hatter quickly moved past the subject altogether-- pushing the filled cup and treats over towards his partner.

“Well, as long as you don’t mind. You know I always enjoy your company.”

“Oh, yes, it’s quite fine, really.” Crane took the cup and plate with a ‘thank you’ and a nod.

“If I’m to be honest, my research has come to a ... halt, of sorts. Perhaps another time, if you wouldn’t mind, I may use you as a sounding board. But as for now ... I believe there is  **another ** matter which requires our attention.”

Crane raised a brow as he sipped his cup, eyes purposely drifting to the wooden box, ominously. 

Jervis’ eyes naturally followed, his thoughts drifting more to the serious tone of the other man’s words.

“Of course, I’m always willing to help. You know that, dear.” This was said as an automatic response, even as his gaze turned back to his partner’s face. “But another matter, you say? Pray tell,  _ whatever could it be _ ? Nothing  **dire** , I hope?”

Hatter smiled, though his nervousness over the sudden subject change didn’t allow it to meet his eyes in its usual genuine fashion.

Jonathan could see it, the uneasiness, the trepidation in Jervis’ eyes. It wasn’t easy, fighting his grin, the delighted chuckle he felt churning and tickling inside his chest.

“I wouldn’t say  _ dire _ , however I  **do ** feel it’s very _ important.  _ You see, I’ve been,  _ thinking. _ ..” He set his cup and plate aside, sliding the box directly in front of himself, a hand clutching either side of it, eyes cast down upon it.

“And I believe, perhaps, it’s time to take this relationship, to the next level...” Long fingers spread out over its lid, as he slid the wooden box across the table slowly, until it was less than a foot away from the man sitting across from him. Dark, glinting eyes peered up at Jervis now, the hint of a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little,  _ intimacy, _ I suppose.” 

If Jervis was supposed to feel any less nervous about where the conversation was going, it certainly didn’t work. Hatter looked between the box and Jonathan, trying to pierce together exactly what this conversation could mean. The wording led him to believe the man was… proposing? But, of course, that made little sense. They had only been an item for a little while now, and while Jervis was the sort that  **preferred** a long term commitment-- he was a man meant for marriage, after all. Yet...

What WAS the legal status of such a thing in Gotham?

“ _ Intimacy? _ ” The Englishman asked, his voice squeaking over the word. Jervis quickly cleared his throat, as he carried on. “I… I don’t think I know what you  **mean** , my dear.”

Still, he reached out to grab the wooden box all the same. Hands placed neatly on top of it, even as curiosity begged for him to open it then and there.

“I’m confident you’ll understand  **completely** as soon as you open the box.” Crane shrugged, his attention now on his cookie. He picked it up, ready to bite... and stopped, glancing back up at Jervis, curiously.

“Unless... you decide to turn down my offer of intimacy, in which case I will take my box and we never need to speak of this again.” He took a bite of his treat now, chewing as he watched Jervis, full of amused glee as he awaited the man’s answer.

Naturally, this caused Jervis to fret all the more.

“N-no!  _ Of course I wouldn’t _ . I’m  **honored** you wish to share something of private nature with me, Jonathan. Just, ah, let me see what surprises you have in store,  _ yes? _ ”

Hatter looked down at the item within his hands-- noticing the metal latch. Pushing it aside, he took a deep breath as he prepared himself for what was inside. Jervis held his breath, lifting the lid of the wooden box.

The Englishman blinked when it was his own reflection that greeted him. 

“Oh!” he said in surprise, realizing it was a jewelry box of some sort. The bewilderment kept on coming, as it was then that he noticed what looked to be many clumps of… hair? A box of hair, and what looked to be a tube of some sort.

It was upon seeing the font that read ‘spirit gum’ did things fall into place. His eyes lit up in amusement.

“You… _You read my post!_” Jervis couldn’t help but laugh, even as he picked up one of the many mustaches from inside the box. “My word, you nearly scared me half to death, _you_ _wicked man_. Intimate, **indeed**!”

Finally, Jonathan was able to let out the laugh that he’d been fighting, short, but filled with genuine delight.

“Try on as many as you’d like, a little glue goes a long way, make sure to spread it thin.” Crane gave a flippant half-shrug and added, “It may not be quite as,  **intimate** , as donning my mask, but I wouldn’t want to, _ scare you off _ by moving t _ oo fast. _ ” He flashed Jervis a devious, knowing smile, and took another bite of his cookie.

“You are making me believe ‘intimate’ shouldn’t have been my choice of phrase.” Jervis argued, even as he went through the box and placed the different mustaches to his lip-- seeing which styles he thought worked best. “I merely meant it was  **personal** . A big part of your identity, you see. Not something to just pick up and wear all  _ willy nilly _ . At least, not without consent.”

The conversation was slightly put on hold as Hatter found one styled into curled tips, his beam growing wider in delight as he went for the glue. As he added it onto the back of the mustache, he started speaking once more.

“Are you to lead me to believe that is  **not** the case, love?”

_ “Oh, I knew what you meant. _ ” Crane waved a dismissive hand and rolled his eyes, but his smirk never left. “I merely enjoy watching you squirm a little, I suppose. And you did not disappoint, a lovely performance, bravo.”

Crane reclaimed his cup, his smirk slipping now, and he sighed.

“And you aren’t  _ wrong _ . As many times I’ve said it’s just a mask he, and-- ** _ it, _ ** and I, have been through quite a great deal the past few years. But  _ those. _ ..” He tilted his head toward the box.

“You know you could have asked at any time.”

“ _ Ridiculous _ .” Jervis muttered, even as he was in the process of placing the mustache over his upper lip. “I would have felt, well,  **preposterous** asking such a thing. Could you imagine?  _ ‘Jonathan? You know how you’ve mentioned using stage props for some of your disguises? Would you mind if I could live out one of my little fantasies I’ve had since my youth, and try on one of your mustaches?’ _ ”

Hatter tapped the hairs into place, twitching his nose and lip very much like a rabbit would sniff the air, as he checked to make sure the spirit gum was doing its job. Jervis couldn’t help the pleased hum he gave as he saw his reflection from the jewelry box.

“Hmm. WELL. It certainly is different!” Another light laugh, as the Englishman looked over at his partner. “What do  **you** think? Dashing?  _ Distinguished? _ ”

Watching Jervis wiggle his nose like that, Jonathan had to remind himself just what this man was capable of. Then again, he supposed given the circumstances, he was fully allowed to consider the man ...  _ charming _ .

“Well, the  ** _style_ ** certainly suits you. I’ll see about obtaining one in your hair color, it would make the  **perfect** disguise on one of our,  _ outings.” _

Jervis seemed the type to delight in the thought of wearing such a thing out and about, perhaps even on one of their dinner dates. Not that it was honestly necessary, but Jonathan couldn’t help but admire Jervis’ flair for the more whimsical side of life.

The Englishman couldn’t stop the little satisfied wag of his head he gave over the praise, straightening himself in his seat even as he tilted the mirror to get a better look at himself.

“You really think so? I’ll admit, the idea  **DOES** have an appeal. I imagine it may at least create enough subterfuge to not have anyone instantly recognize the _ infamous Hatter. _ ”

Crane chuckled, brief, and low, as he recalled just how many times he, himself, had gone unnoticed thanks to a simple fake mustache.

“Oh, you’d be  **surprised** how easily these brainless fools are tricked by something so simple.”

He fell silent then, staring down into his tea cup as he thought. There was actually another subject he felt needed to be brought up. Jealousy was one thing, but the fact it seemed to have sprung up from a place of such low self esteem was alarming. It made perfect sense, of course, given the Hatter’s track record with relationships, both romantic and familial. Turned away and rejected by most everyone in his life, of course he’d come to expect it now. Was there really anything he could say that would undo years of trust and abandonment issues? No, perhaps not. But a little reassurance never  _ hurt. _

“You know, your jealousy  _ is  _ mildly flattering, on some level. But completely unnecessary. Not only am I,  _ off the market, _ as they say, I was never  **on** it to  _ begin with _ . None of them matter, they don’t even  _ qualify. _ None of them have ...” Crane stared at the man across from him, wearing a fake mustache that was a completely different color than the rest of his hair.

“Oh, whatever it is you call  ** _that_ ** .” Crane gestured to Jervis his a splayed hand.

Hatter’s eyes had become very wide from the change of subject-- a part of him instantly feeling foolish over the idea of the one he loved bringing up such a serious topic while…  **well.** I _ n any case, _ it certainly was enough to have Jervis’ spirits sink faster than the drop of a hat-- as did the feeling of lead dropping within his stomach. 

The Englishman looked away, gently removing the make-up prop from above his lip-- the tackiness of the glue remaining.

“I know that, Jonathan.” A pause, before Jervis corrected himself. “At least, I  **logically** know that is the case. Our mutual pining wouldn’t have lasted  _ nearly _ as long as it had if you had a wandering eye, after all.” An attempt at a joke, and one that Jervis didn’t feel. “I… truly  **am** sorry for that lapse earlier. You’d think by now, after so many reassurances, I wouldn’t fear you leaving. Of you some day  _ waking up and realising-- _ ”

Hatter went to grab at his previous undisturbed cup of tea, allowing the warmth to bring him some comfort as it radiated into his palms.

“ **Nevermind that.** The point is: I was out of line, and that’s that.”

Jonathan sighed. “Oh, very well. I suppose time is the only sure remedy for doubt ... so long as we stay on his good side. Consider the subject dropped, but I’d like to leave off on this note; I appreciate your honesty on the matter. Coming to me immediately with your feelings of inadequacy, well. Something like that takes courage, and I admire that.”

Crane paused to sip, before adding, “We needn’t allow sour feelings to fester.”

“It certainly didn’t  _ feel _ that way at the time; if anything, it felt...” Petty was the word that came to mind. But that caused Hatter’s face to scrunch in displeasure. No, not ‘petty’. “ **Jejune.** ” Was what he settled on, giving a firm little nod at his conclusion. Still, Jervis smiled at the man across from him, reaching a hand out to lay it on top of Jonathan’s.

“Yet, ‘ _ courageous _ ’ is certainly a kinder word, all things considered. Thank you.”

Jonathan chuckled. Jejune, indeed. He’d grown to expect the occasional childish outburst from Jervis, and they weren’t always unwelcome.

“Alright.” Another casual shrug, and Crane finished his cup of tea with one hand, gently entwining his fingers with the hand on his other.

_ Speaking of jejune. _ The act of holding hands, childish, pointless, borderline embarrassing. And yet, somehow, pleasant. 

A sentiment Jervis would have agreed with-- the part about it being pleasant, that is-- if it had been voiced aloud. Hatter ran his thumb over one has Jonathan’s knuckles, sighing as he couldn’t help the love that welled up inside him. How…  _ lucky _ he was that the man in front of him was so understanding of his troubles.

And it was with this thought he hummed, as he considered one of the small ways he could pay back this kindness.

“Now that one serious discussion has come to an end, you mentioned needing assistance, dear? I can’t promise I’d be much help, considering our fields are a tad different. But I wouldn’t mind being your rubber duck in this instance, at the very least.”

“Hm?” What was he-- “Oh! Yes.“ Of course, he ** had ** requested assistance regarding his work, hadn’t he. Crane sat his empty cup back onto the table, and gave an overly dramatic, weary sigh.

“I fear I’ve found myself in a bit of a rut lately, you see...”

Jervis had noticed, though looking back on things… being occupied with  _ other _ matters certainly didn’t help. A part of himself considered feeling guilty for that, yet, seeing how the outcome played out… He didn’t have it in him to regret it.

“ _ ‘Begin at the beginning,[...]‘and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’ _ ” Hatter cited, giving the hand in his a squeeze. “Is it a matter of… theatrics you find yourself concerned with? Planning, and what have you? Or does it have something to do with the formula itself?”

And so, Jonathan told his most trusted friend his tale of woe, his loss of inspiration, his lack of ambition in the face of scientific research. How he feared he was losing his spark for Fear itself, and his worries as to what that may mean for the Scarecrow.

Of course, their conversation didn’t stay so morose for long, as soon they were discussing ideas, hypotheticals, what-ifs, and the more they spoke, the more excited the professor became.

Perhaps there was hope yet for the Scarecrow’s terrifying return. Just as the Hatter would someday grow to realize he had a member of his tea party that would never leave his side.

_ Those, however, are stories for another day. _


End file.
